Oranges
by Softballa13tondalayo
Summary: Toph has always loved oranges.


Toph lounged on the couch, face brightening in recognition as she caught the pungent, tangy scent of oranges in the air.

It brought back memories of days long past, and she found herself looking back to a place she visited often.

—

_3…2…1…_

_**"Miss Toph, your father will see you now."**_

_Toph sighed as she straightened out, walking ahead despite the fact her nanny was supposed to take her arm and guide her in._

_She could humor them all they liked, but she would at least walk freely in her own house, wooden floors be damned._

_Inside it was the same routine. Walk in and bow politely, smile and address her father in the honeyed language of nobility and kiss so much ass she could almost smell the bisonshit._

_She only ever spent time with her father, Lord Lao Beifong, once a week to show off what she was taught in her lessons and report on her progress._

_It didn't make for a very close relationship, but as much as she wanted to hate him for keeping her locked up the way he did, shutting her inside and hiding her existence from the world, she just couldn't._

_It didn't matter that he was dooming her to a loneliness so painful it was her only friend…he was still her dad. She didn't like him, but she loved him just the same; and in his own way, he loved her too._

_She knew that._

_And so she would play the part of the good daughter, saving her anger and frustration for the stage at Earth Rumble._

_She would play the part of weak little heiress so they could not bind her feet for fear of killing her, secretly honing her Earthbending when no one was looking._

_She would be the china doll, best seen and not heard, if only to gain her parents' love, even if it meant tamping out the part of her that railed against the bars of her painted smile._

_She would do all these things and tuck herself away into the fold of her elegant dresses until she could be alone and free to be Toph Beifong: the girl, and not Toph Beifong: the doll._

_"__**I am glad to see you have been doing well in your studies, Toph. I'm very proud to see you becoming such a fine young lady. Keep it up."**_

_Toph said nothing, accepting his condescending words with gritted teeth._

_He was talking _at_ her, not _to _her._

_It didn't matter anyway. He began to speak to the nanny now, telling her to take Toph to her room to change before dinner while he attended to some business._

_Once at her room, Toph begged off of dinner, saying her stomach was upset -'__**Oh nanny would you please get me those oranges- you know the ones- that I like so much? They always help.' **_

_Worked every time._

_And so she found herself alone by her window, resting a cheek against the cool glass and a bowl of oranges by her side._

_In her hands she was feeling the rough ridges and squeezing the tough skin between her hands, letting the strong fragrance work itself into her skin._

_Ever since she could remember, Toph has loved oranges._

_They were such a wonder to her, being so rough and thick on the outside, and squishy and juicy on the inside. They were like lemons, only sweeter._

_They couldn't be peeled like apples, so they were the only food she could enjoy by touching and eating with her hands. The many textures of oranges were fun to explore, and while peeling, her mind would go to wandering, and she would dream of having adventures outside of these cold walls: of a life away from this endless monotony. _

_Even her time at Earth Rumble was no longer as fun as it used to be. No one ever presented a challenge, and though she would be the first to admit she liked to ride the wave of adrenaline as she snuck out most nights, it just wasn't cutting it for her anymore._

_She wanted a life away from all this. Not a secret past-time break up the days of numbing boredom._

_She wanted friends. She wanted a home, not a fancy house. She wanted her parents to accept her for who she really was, not who she pretended to be._

_Toph peeled away the rough skin, removing a slice and absently chewing on it, letting the juices burst as she bit down._

_Sometimes, for lack of anyone to talk to, she would speak her mind to the silence that swallowed up her words, letting them linger there before she could put them away in the secret parts of herself._

_It was times like these where she was most content._

_Here, she would not have to listen to the inane chatter of her parents and whatever house guest came by._

_Here she didn't have to pretend not to hear the servants complain as they talked outside her door, or from behind the kitchen, or from the other room._

_Here, she could be away from the endless condescension, away from the expectations and pitying stares she could not see but felt everywhere she went._

_Here no one could tell her what to do, or tell her she was doing it wrong._

_Here she could curse and cry and Bend until she grew tired._

_Here…it was just her and the oranges._


End file.
